


A Perfect Drawing

by Nicky_Gabriel



Category: Starsky & Hutch
Genre: Gen, post SR
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-08-30
Updated: 2010-08-30
Packaged: 2017-10-11 08:45:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/110551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nicky_Gabriel/pseuds/Nicky_Gabriel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>But it wasn't enough for me anymore.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Perfect Drawing

I found Starsky in his bedroom when I came home from work that day. He sat on the bed, cleaning his gun. I never even saw him touch this thing since he was released from the hospital, so this sight made me freeze at the door. He looked up at me and shrugged, blushing slightly as if embarrassed.

“Borrowed your cleaning kit,” he said, trying to explain.

“’S okay,” I managed to say through the lump in my throat.

He had scheduled his first training at the rifle-range for the next morning, but he refused to talk about it for the last few weeks. I didn’t even try to imagine how much it cost him to finally reach for the gun and accept it as a part of his job again; after everything he had suffered because of one of those things.

There was something in Starsky that often made me reach for a sheet of paper and pencil to try and make a moment last. This need happened in the most unusual times; when he was cooking, when he was putting together a new model of a ship, or when he was just watching some of his favorite horror movies.

He never minded me drawing him; no matter when it happened. Sometimes, he just would smile at me and shake his head. Sometimes he would pretend he didn’t notice. Sometimes he would challenge me openly, but he never objected.

I wondered what he would do now. The last few months changed so much in our lives that there were things I couldn’t be sure about in our relationship anymore. I went to my bedroom and took out the sketch book, where I had saved so many moments from his life. I wanted to have this one as well, so I went back and stood at the door again.

He noticed what I had in my hand and, for a minute, he didn’t react. I knew that in this particular moment I would find out how much he still trusted me; _if_ he still trusted me. Finally, he looked up and met my eyes. For the first time in my life I couldn’t read him. And then he nodded, once, and went back to work.

But it wasn’t enough for me anymore.

“Will you take your shirt off for me?” I asked, still not moving from where I stood.

I didn’t want just another drawing. I wanted a _perfect_ drawing. But would he understand it? Would he understand that it would be meaningless if I couldn’t draw what such a weapon had done to him?

Starsky just stared at the gun in his hands and I almost heard my heart pounding in my chest.

“You don’t have to ask, Hutch,” I heard him whisper.

And then he reached out to unbutton his shirt.


End file.
